steadyinyourglasscastle
by prouvaires
Summary: -don't go throwing stones now, princess.- ArthurMorgana.


steadyinyourglasscastle  
_Don't go throwing stones now, princess._

**Disclaimer: **Disclaimed.

**Rating: **T (for language and minor adult themes … you know, the usual.)

**Words: **1,485

**A/N: **I know I promised I would just work on lettheflamesbegin, but deadly inspiration struck me in the form of a Snow Patrol song and I had to let it out – it wouldn't let me concentrate on anything else. The lyrics are completely perfect for my purpose.

By the way, it totally doesn't make any sense. Put down the fact that I've uploaded it as sentimental silveraurora crap. Because I'm feeling completely melodramatic (and overtired) right now.

**Song: **One Night is Not Enough – Snow Patrol

--

_(You left your door wide open  
Couldn't help but walk in.)_

It's like … I don't know. Like you don't even see the way I feel. Actually, that doesn't surprise me. You were always self-centred (but, baby, I fell for you anyway. Shh, don't tell Uther.) and while we were growing up it was almost an unspoken contract between us. We'd fight, you'd storm away, I'd laugh in the power I held over you when I wore my prettiest dress and flashed you my best smile. I spent _hours _working on that smile (it was all for you).

But now you're sitting in your room with the door wide open and there's something written all over your (handsome) face that I want to kiss away. (Because if something's hurt you I'm going to go crazy, I swear.)

_(It's the last place I should be;  
But I'm dying to see you.)_

You've been avoiding me recently, I think. You've slipped away from meals early, taken a different route with your (brutish) friends to avoid seeing me, done everything to remove yourself from my life. (What happened to the youandme from before? It used to be so good.) It hasn't worked. You're in my thoughts constantly (don't give me that look, you know how damn good I am at hiding things) and sometimes I consider just downing a whole bathtub of the sleeping potion Gaius prescribes me so I can escape this pretty, gilded prison and your sympathetic _brotherly _looks. (You were never a brother to me, and you fucking well know it. But you're Arthur, and you just have to be _right _all the time. Give it up, your _highness. _I see right through you.)

So I walk into your room with my head held high and I stare you down when you try to give me that _look. _(You know, the one that says _you-shouldn't-be-here-and-you-know-it._) I just can't help myself. I know it's kind of pathetic (something about a pot and a kettle and one calling the other black?) but I see the way you stare after my _maidservant _and sometimes I wonder which of us is the fool in love. I should run far from here (but there's nowhere far enough) and give you up, surrender my love in return for maybe power or something; and if I get filled with a little darkness in return, is that really so bad? (Shut up. You know I would do it if it truly released me from these feelings.)

_(Have I held out for something  
That's never going to happen?)_

You know, it was always supposed to be you and I. Me and you. Arthur and Morgana. I like the way those words sound together (don't you?). Uther planned it, the whole court expected it. Even _Gwen _took it as a given. I wore that (tight) blue dress and you couldn't keep your eyes off me (score one up to me) but then I found you kissing her in the back hallway (score tied again). It's funny (not really) because I've been waiting my whole life for the moment when you'd laugh and sweep the most beautiful girl in Camelot into your arms and tell her you love her. (How was I to know you'd pick the one that was the most beautiful on the _inside?_) And when you found your girl it wasn't me. It wasn't ever me.

_(It's not me that you love._

_It's not me that you love.)_

I get it now. I think I'll run away. Maybe. I don't know. It'll be hard. But, right now, in your room as you stare at me looking like something's breaking inside you (I know what it is – it broke in me a long time ago) I can't help myself. I know that you're despairing because Lancelot returned and found her before you did (I have my sources, baby) and now you're certain she doesn't love you. We don't say a word to each other (silence is golden) and because I'm (stupidly) naïve, I let you take me in your arms and kiss me and even as my clothes are tumbling to the floor I'm shaking because this feels so perfect (and if only this was _truth_). As I writhe beneath you, you speak only one word. And it's not my name. (Surely you know better than to call the name of a woman when you're in bed with another?)

I forgive you (just like always). You can't help it, I suppose. I should kill you or something, but in all honesty just this one chance to be with you and surrender completely to you is like something out of my dreams. I fall asleep with my head on your bare chest, your hand fisting gently in my hair (maybe this is what heaven feels like) and my heart beats in time with yours, just as it has since we were children and you handed me that red rose and gave me a kiss on the cheek with clumsy, eleven-year-old lips.

_(You woke up cold this morning,  
Shied from my touch.)_

I know you regret it. (You know what they say about those who live in glass castles, sweetheart. No throwing stones. Well, I think we fucking threw _mountains._) But then I knew you would regret it before it even happened (and that's not just because I'm a seer) but I let it happen anyway, and more fool me. Your face is distant as you shut the door behind me. You won't let me touch you, won't let me reach out to you (but really, darling, you should be reaching out to me. I'm the one that's going to do damage if you drive me away).

Maybe seeing the coldness in your face is finally enough. Probably I'll find myself able to just run away now. I let the hours and days and weeks drift past until you think our night is buried in the past, and then I find a glimmer of hope when you are caught with the lady Vivian. I'm kind of torn between ecstatic and devastated when her father challenges you. I'm happy because if you're in love with another it seems your heart is just as fickle as it used to be, and maybe I can persuade you to love me again. But then I'm filled with dread because maybe you've found a different form of forever (although I always thought even _you _could do better than _her_, darling).

_(I would never mean to hurt you,  
'Cause I love you so much.)_

Morgause sent the sickness through me. She tells me this now, as I wake up in her arms. I think maybe I'm in Avalon for a second (that shouldn't make me _relieved_) but then her face swims into focus and the reality of Merlin's betrayal twists something dark into my heart. I think, if there's one moment that really changed me for good, that's it. That moment is the one where I jumped off the edge and into evil. (Strange – it was easier than I had always thought it would be.)

To be honest, every time I attack you, it's not _you _that I'm attacking. It's Merlin and Camelot and your stupid father who is too filled with fear to be rational about magic. (I know you'll say it's wrong, love, but the feeling of his terror as the magic tore him apart felt so painful and so _good_ to me.) But your face when you see me kneeling over his broken body makes me regret everything instantly. (It's weird, baby. Only you ever had the power to do that.) Nothing I ever do is calculated to hurt you. I guess I'm still too naïve to understand that whole _action-reaction _thing.

_(Was it always only one night  
That you ever wanted from me?)_

Gwen rushes into the hall behind you and finds you staring at me across Uther's body, and as she clutches at your arm something flickers behind your eyes and suddenly I'm more unsure than I've ever been (and that's saying something, darling). Your (_oh-so_-blue) eyes catch mine, and I think I'm drowning again. But then Morgause snatches up my hand (she can sense these things) and whirls me away.

Because of that, I think maybe it's my fault you died in the end. (So fucking _many _maybes.) Maybe if I hadn't argued with you so often, maybe if I hadn't been so set against Uther, maybe if I'd _stayed _then you would have unlocked your heart and discovered that there was some love in there for me and abandoned Guinevere before she could abandon you. (You should have come away with me, darling.)

I follow you into Avalon soon afterwards (I was only ever pretending I could live without you) and I only then realise that I should have come here much _sooner_, because down here (or up here, if you insist) there's no rightandwrong or goodandevil. There's no Guinevere and Lancelot.

There's Arthur and Morgana.

And it's _perfect_, darling.

--

**A/N: **Welcome to the fabulous world of Silver on a caffeine high. Yes, my head really does spin in a way that probably mirrors the layout of this story. Sorry if you thought it sucked. I just love the song and the title that went _sham-wow! _into my head as I went to save it. Sometimes my brain (astonishingly) does come up with good ideas. Anyway … please don't favourite (although I don't know why you would) without leaving a review. I love you guys!


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